Home
by mrslee
Summary: “I don’t need you to do anything. I don’t need you anymore.” He remains still, his eyes searching hers. “Bullshit.” Her face turns up to his despite the heaviness of the rain around them. “I didn’t miss you Elliot." Olivia comes home from Oregon. EO
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No. Not mine. Sigh. But CM is. Actually, he's not. But I can dream right?**

**Author's note:**

**Hello there! This story has been sitting in my mind for about three months, and was finally typed up at the insistence of Nettie and listening over and over to "Home" by Daughtry. God that song is such a great EO song. **

**I haven't written a second chapter to this, and I don't really know if I will. But, if enough of you guys convince me otherwise, I'll post a second, SMUTTIER, chapter sometime soon. Promise! So leave me a review, let me know, and I'll get on it.**

**Hannah, you're crazy, just like me! You better update Hallmark! Or I'll...I'll...:shakes fist: Yeah, that's right! I didn't really delete this; I was just messing with you. A lot. And I apologise. Really I do. But it was FUNNY! Yeah, me posting 500 words? AS IF! LOL!**

**Sarah, here it is, as promised. Thanks for all you're fabulous emails!**

**And to Nettie, who never fails to impress me with her wonderful beta'ing skills. And just herself in general. You're amazing.**

**So enjoy lots, review lots, and I'll love you lots!**

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He watches the rain trickle down the windshield, counting to three in his head until the patterns are swept away by the windscreen wiper. Usually, he'd watch as the water coalesced, mesmerised as the drops etched patterns on the cool glass.

But tonight, he is watching beyond it; his eyes scanning the various people exiting the doors of the terminal. He can't see her there. 

Not yet.

It's not like she's looking for him anyway.

He'd practically had to bribe Casey for information regarding Olivia's arrival information.

He continues to count, hoping that somewhere in the next five minutes; he'll find the courage to actually get out of the car. His excuse to himself is that it's raining and there was no use in him getting wet without knowing for sure when Olivia would come through the doors.

Hell, he's not even sure she's coming at all.

He's not certain of much at the moment. 

The past two months without Olivia could best be described as a blur. But despite the speed at which the time has flown, he remembers everything, because he hates the person he is without Olivia at his side.

He wants to be angry she wasn'tthere for him to turn to when his divorce from Kathy wasfinalised; but he can't remember the time they had last engaged in such personal conversation.

Forget personal, he can't even think of a recent time when they'd last had a civilised conversation.

He shifts in the car seat, trying to stimulate some blood flow in his leg. It fell asleep somewhere between the time the group of Japanese tourists dashed past him and when the last American Airlines plane had landed.

A security guard passes his window, looking inside the car in vague curiosity. Obviously, he's seen the NYPD parking permit in the windshield; and in any case, the rain is too heavy to bother asking any questions.

Which is good, he thinks. He doesn'tknow ifhe can handle any form of interrogation at the moment. He'd already lost his temper at Dani that afternoon. After sharing a kiss he now deeply regrets, he knows she wants more. If Olivia wasn't coming home tonight, there was every chance he would have ended up at Dani's apartment after her invitation two days ago.

He didn't have those sorts of feelings for Dani; but with her, it was less complicated. And God knows he could have used a night, no matter the consequences, to forget about the constant ache he wasfeeling in Olivia's absence. 

But he knows he'd regret it, and oddly, on some level, he feels he would be betraying Olivia. His heart clenches at that. He knows he should feel guilty it's not his wife's face stopping him, but he doesn't. 

Because it stopped being his wife's face which affected him a long time ago.

And it's the face which just appeared from behind therevolving doors of the terminal that will continue to affect him for many years to come.

Olivia.

She pauses just outside the door, almost as though she's thinking about something she might have left on the plane. He unbuckles his seatbelt, and pulls the keys out of the ignition. The wipers pause in the middle of the wind-screen, and he panics momentarily at the thought of losing sight of her. 

The power of the rain takes him by surprise, and he squints against the wind howling around him. He almost slips on the gutter, the hood of a car saving him from falling flat on his ass.

Olivia is still standing just to the left of the doors, but she's looking at him now. Even in the mass of bodies and pounding rain, she's able to find him; to feel his presence.

She's not smiling, and Elliot wonders if she might just jump into a taxi and ignore him completely.

Before he knows it, his feet have carried him to within a foot of her and he can see in her eyes how tired she is. And he's willing to bet anything that it's not from the jetlag. 

Her hair has grown, and it falls around her face in tight curls, her bangs brushing her eyelashes as she cocks her head to the side, her eyes looking him up and down.

"What are you doing here?" It's not accusatory, but he can hear traces of lingering anger behind her words. She's probably pissed at Casey for crumbling under his intensive questioning.

He shrugs his shoulders non-committally. "Heard you were coming back."

She narrows her eyes and her fringe shifts. "Not from me."

She steps around him and into the rain, the roof above them offering little protection as the wind seemed to pick up speed. He follows her across the street and into the half-empty car-park, holding his hands above his eyes to stop the rain from stinging them.

"Liv...Olivia. Where are you going?" She keeps walking, her suitcase unsteady behind her.

"To find a taxi so I can go home Elliot."

No El. Just Elliot. That alone kills him.

"I came to take you home, Liv." His voice scratches at his throat and it leaves his voice barely audible in the driving rain.

But she hears, and his breath quickens as she stops mid-stride, her back rigid. A reaction he would expect if he had hurled an insult at her. She swings around, the handle of her suitcase falling from her grasp. It teeters for a second before collapsing into a puddle; but she doesn't notice.

She's too busy moving slowly towards him.

"What are you doing here Elliot? I mean, _really_ doing here?" 

He knows the answer to that question without even thinking about it. But how do you tell your partner of eight years that being apart from her tore at your insides more than being away from your ex-wife?

How was he supposed to tell her that he was filled with guilt because in a moment of weakness, he had pushed his new partner against her SUV and kissed her just to feel something? 

How was he supposed to tell Olivia, who was fixing him with a burning glare, he loved her despite all the shit they'd been through?

"I missed you Olivia."

Whatever she was expecting it wasn't that. He watches her eyes widen, her mouth falling open slightly at his words. He knows this is what he should've told her the first time she left him; when she had moved two floors up to computer crimes because it was too complicated between them. 

She had given him ample opportunity to do so. He had punched that prick Blaine square in the face because he wasn't Olivia. Because his wasn't the back he was supposed to be protecting.

She had visited him in the locker room as he was changing his bloody and torn shirt, and she had offered him the chance to get her back. He didn't deserve it, or her, but she had given it to him.

But he was an idiot, and still is in fact. 

Her bottom lip trembles and her eyes focus on a plane taking off somewhere behind him. He wonders if maybe she's thinking if things would have been different if she had stayed. 

Because he sure as hell is. 

Her eyes fall back to meet his and her uncertainty is replaced with defensiveness. ""You know what you missed, Elliot? You missed me cleaning up after all the mistakes you made. You missed having someone you could use as your emotional punching bag," her voice breaks at the end of the sentence but she continues her verbal barrage. "So screw you and your fucking guilty conscience."

He imagined this scenario going a little differently. It wasn't like he expected her to run to him like they did in those Hollywood movies his daughter's were obsessed with. But he wanted some sort of acknowledgement on her behalf that he'd taken a huge step in trying to make things right between them.

She's still again, her arms folded defensively, and she's waiting for him to make the next move. The fact is, he doesn't have one. He's already told her he missed her and he's not going to stand in the teeming rain all night begging her to change her mind. If there's one thing he knows about Olivia, it's she's stubborn and resolute as hell. He knows this because he's exactly the same. So he does the only thing he knows will evoke some sort of reaction from her.

He provokes her.

"You know what Olivia?" He rests his hands on his hips, his voice rasping out; fighting the cold. "Find your own way home. You're right." He turns to make his way back to the car, "you always fucking are."

He knows without turning that Olivia is right on his heels, her bag remaining forgotten in the quick-building puddle. 

"Don't you talk to me like that you bastard." He turns and is momentarily caught off guard by the sadness in her eyes. "You have no right to stand there and tell me you missed me and then turn the hell around and pretend like you never said it in the first place."

Shoulders shrug and he has no answer. Again.

When had they stopped talking to each other? When had speaking to each other become so hard. He hates it. Sometimes, after he closes the door to his apartment, after he downs a glass of whiskey, he thinks about the day he and Olivia spent toeing the line. He wonders if anything would be different had they simply talked to each other.

If they had opened their mouths and said something, anything, other than words that hurt.

Watching her now, hair plastered to the sides of her face, cheeks pink from the blustering wind; he's never wanted anyone, any_thing,_ this much.

Not even his wife.

"What do you want me to do, Olivia? What the fuck more do you want me to do? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Huh?" He advances on her, but she stands her ground. A distant part of his brain admires her for that.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child, Elliot; like I'm one of your daughters." She shakes her head, her hair dripping. "I don't need you to do anything. I don't need you anymore."

He remains still, his eyes searching hers. "Bullshit."

Her face turns up to his despite the heaviness of the rain around them. "I didn't miss you Elliot."

He hopes the pang in his gut isn't visible on his face, but it's hard to disguise when you feel like you've been shot through the stomach. He doesn't want to believe her, but for the first time in a long time he can't get a read on what her eyes are telling him. He wasn't expecting that, and she knows it because her lip is curling into what resembles a self-satisfied smirk.

And because he was an idiot, and because he was no good at rectifying a perfectly salvageable situation, he says the first thing in retaliation. The first thing he knows will hit her just as squarely in the jaw. 

The first thing that would hurt her just as much as he was hurting right now.

"I kissed Dani."

Hurt; strong and obvious flits across Olivia's face. But it's gone almost as quickly as it arrives, and he knows it reflects his reaction to her earlier comment. Her lip curls again, arms folded under her bust; the stance Olivia takes when she wants to seem as though she's unaffected. 

"Your partner?" He can't tell if she's crying, because there is far too much rainrunning down her skin.

But he does know her voice has become deeper; almost like she's trying to stop herself from becoming any more emotional.

"Yeah," low and rumbling; like the sound of the distant thunder.

She looks uncomfortable, her eyes beginning to dart in the area behind him again. "Why did you tell me? You're free to do whatever the hell you want; it's none of my business."

He takes a step towards her again, ignoring the water seeping through his shoes and into his socks. "I regret it now, Olivia, I do."

"Shut-up." It's comes out as a hiss; and standing this close he can see the tears that have filled her eyes. "Just shut the hell up."

"You were gone, Olivia, and I didn't know when you were coming back." He swallows thickly, trying to keep his emotions down. "And I didn't know if you were even going to come back at all."

Olivia's hand swipes quickly at her eye. "I was undercover Elliot; I couldn't break ranks to reassure you I was coming back."

He shakes his head. "One call, Olivia! One call!" 

Olivia flinches at his words, and her hand is rubbing at her eye again. "And what did you want me to say to you?" She manages to grit the sentence out, her bottom lip trembling again. "What did you want me to say to you Elliot? What did _you_ want to say to _me_? You wanted to call me and tell me that you fucked your partner 'cause you couldn't get any from your wife?"

The way Olivia's eyes widen after she gets her sentence out tells him she knows she's just stepped over the line. It would've hurt less if she'd hit him. Twice. But he knows if they keep this up, they'll lose everything between them, and that thought alone scares him more than anything has in a long time.

"I wanted to talk to you, Olivia, because I needed to know you were coming back to me." He makes sure to keep his eyes firmly trained on hers. He needs her to understand this. "I needed to tell my best friend my divorce was finalised and that I needed her support."

He can now see a clear distinction between the rain and Olivia's tears. And he wonders if she can tell that he's crying now as well. But he needs to get this out.

Now.

"I needed to tell my partner, I missed her and that I made a huge mistake in kissing her stand-in because I needed to feel something other than anger and loneliness."

"Elli..." She breaks off, her arms wrapping tighter around her middle.

"I had to let you know, Liv, that the reason I regretted it, was because it wasn't you."

His heart is beating out of his chest, his hands shaking, but the feeling which had been weighing him down since Olivia left him is gone. Who knew that words could be so cathartic?

Olivia is still looking at him, her head shaking slightly. "Elliot. We can't..."

"Why the hell not?" He grabs her shoulders, hard enough to keep her grounded, light enough for her to step back and away.

But back and away is not an option.

"You're missing your family Elliot, so your mind isn't completely clear. You don't know what you want." 

He moves his right hand to her freezing cheek, his thumb brushing away the mixture of rain and tears. "You know what, Liv? For the first time in three years, I know exactly what I want."

She looks at him warily before she moves to turn away from him. But his hand catches her forearm before she gets the chance to go anywhere. 

And he hugs her. He closes the space that has slowly suffocated their relationship. He holds his breath until he feels her arms uncross and wrap tightly around his waist. Her fingers dig through the layers of his clothing to grip at the muscles of his back, her nose between his neck and his shirt collar.

The rain continues to fall heavily around them and he grins at the symbolism. He's always loved the rain; its redeeming and cleansing quality. He has the woman he loves in his arms and even though he doesn't deserve it, he's got another chance.

His lips rest on the crown of her head and he squeezes her to him; almost as though he can somehow meld her body into his. He didn't know so many feelings could be induced from a simple hug.

He feels Olivia take a deep breath and she pulls back. Without making eye contact she steps to the side and tries to get around him. For one second he thinks she's trying to get away 

from him again, so he grabs her forearm and spins her around. Her back hits the door of the SUV and he presses against her.

"Don't you walk away from me again, Olivia." A warning. Her arm trembles where he's holding her.

Despite her physical reaction, she manages to choke out a laugh. "I need to get my bag, Elliot."

He feels himself drawn further towards her by the sound of her laughter. It's been too long since he's heard it. He looks down at her, her eyes watching him as he moves a clump of sodden hair to the side. 

Despite his best efforts, her fringe is still sticking out at odd angles; her teeth standing out in sharp relief to the redness of her cheeks. But damned if he's ever seen anything more beautiful. 

And then she smiles, and she proves him wrong. And he laughs because she's always tried her best to do that at every opportunity.

She's so close now; he feels her breath on his cheek. Her eyes wonderfully bright and he can see a promise and hope that had been missing for a long time. Too long. His heart clenches painfully at the thought of missing out on this. Of what's to come. 

Of everything.

Her eyes drop to his lips and then lazily back to his; and her tongue darts to lick away the drops clinging to the skin he so desperately wants to get his lips on.

That's all the permission he needs.

He lets out something akin to a growl as his lips descend upon hers, one of his hands fisting in her drenched hair, the other gripping her thigh tightly so he can press as closely to her as possible.

Her hands have worked their way under his leather jacket, her fingers clawing at the taut muscles that have tightened at the taste of her. Olivia's tongue wins the first battle and his erection presses against the restrictive material of his jeans as her tongue sweeps through his mouth. She's making tiny noises in the back of her throat that makes his body vibrate, and he subconsciously presses harder against her.

The rain is heavier now and he's sure he's heard the distinctive rumble of thunder above them; but Cragen could walk up behind them and tap him on the shoulder and he wouldn't really notice. But one thing he can't ignore is the way his head is beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen, so he manages to tear his lips off Olivia's. Her moan of displeasure rolls into one of approval, his teeth marking the soft skin of her neck so she'll be able to tell tomorrow morning she's his.

Nobody else's.

Her hands try to sneak to the front of his pants, but he's too quick and she drops her head back in frustration as he locks her wrists in one large hand above her.

"You're an asshole." Her voice is the epitome of sex; low and sultry. 

He grins against her skin, his finger slipping under her saturated top so he can toy with the lacy material of her bra. The rain has made the fabric stick to her skin and he becomes increasingly frustrated at his inability to feel anymore of Olivia skin in the palm of his hand.

His lips seek hers out again eagerly, his hand releasing hers so they can resume their exploration of his back. Water squeezes through his fingers as he grabs at the strands plastered to the side of her face. He thinks that if they don't get out of this rain soon, one or both of them will end up with pneumonia.

"Liv." He smiles against her lips as her response is lost somewhere between her throat and her mouth which is now occupied by his tongue.

She nips at it, then his lips as she draws away, her hands moving from his back to cup his cheeks. He sees a number of questions still in her eyes, but he gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"I missed you too, El."

His grin widens. El. Not Elliot. "I knew it!"

He hugs her to him as closely as he can, and he finally registers just how cold it is. Olivia's body is trembling in his arms, and this time, it's from the cold; not from their ministrations. He needs to get her warm, and he has the perfect idea.

"Come on." He pushes her fringe to the side, kissing the tip of her nose. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

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**Tbc? Let me know! R&R.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: They're owned by a butt-hole who can't see how good EO is. So they're definitely not mine.**

**Author's Note: I know it's been two weeks since I've posted, but life has seriously caught up. Denise knows what I'm talking about ay? If it wasn't for Nettie and Hannah...and Sam and Sarah...and Gab. Lol. Let's just say a combination of factors led to this happening sooner than it probably would have. This story (with the wonderful guidance of my beta) has taken me in another crazy direction. It looks like it might be another couple of chapters. But of course, it's all up to you guys.**

**My huge thanks goes to my out-going beta, Nettie, whose story (if you're smart) I'm sure you've read. Asphalt's her last story before she takes a break from here, so check it out. Especially her author's note where she politely (way more than I ever would) has a thing or two to say about reviewers. Or non-reviewers actually. Let's see if what she's said has gotten through to anybody. So, Nettie, thank you so much for all your help. My stories would be full of this and "that" and they'd basically be half the stories they are if it wasn't for you. Even though you made me cry like...too much, I'm still very, very lucky to have met you.**

**Anywho, to everybody else, please leave a review, and I'll get the third chapter up ASAP.**

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"So what happened with you and Kathy?"

He smiles into the crook of her neck, the hair at her nape tickling his nose. After being her partner for eight years he shouldn't be surprised at her directness; but he wasn't expecting this line of questioning with the both of them in her bathtub.

Naked.

At midnight.

With his thumb in her mouth; her teeth playfully nipping at it.

This is a side of Olivia he could certainly get used to, and one he's angry at himself for almost missing out on.

After finally getting back into his SUV, they'd argued about whose apartment they would go back to. Relenting, mainly because of Olivia's skilful hands, Elliot found himself breaking all kinds of speed limits in the rush to get back to her place.

In that time, however, the magnitude of the entire situation had settled; and he only had to look at Olivia to see she had much to get off her chest. Stepping up behind her, her bag in his left hand, he had pulled her into another hug. Her hands had gripped him to her tightly, and for a second, he forgot that it was still teeming with rain.

Her lips moved against his neck as she told him how scared and tired she was; and despite the desire which was so obviously pulsing between them, she only wanted him to hold her.

He had been surprised at her words. Olivia had never been the sort of person to admit she was afraid of something. Especially to him. She, like him, had preferred to bottle everything up, pretend it didn't affect her and then explode under the resultant pressure.

And he had never heard her say she needed him.

But then again, before tonight, he had never said it either.

Maybe the change which occurred in him wasn't a completely bad thing. It had certainly removed his tendency to hide the truth behind half lies and indifference. It became apparent to him, between hearing Olivia had left him and that she was coming home; he relied as much on her as she did on him.

He wonders if the entire length of their partnership has led to this moment. That every stakeout, interrogation, fight and argument they were involved in, in the past had brought them to this place. He never really believed in fate; not really.

Fate was something his daughters would gush about when they told him about their new boyfriends.

Fate was a concept that was entirely too cheesy for him to even think about. He was a cop for God's sake. Cops saw the word fate as a glorified term for luck; when the bullet missed your main artery by two centimetres, or the perp you'd searched for 48-hours straight for ends up being right in front of you.

But when you deserve to lose somebody because you've screwed up so many times you need two hands to count, it becomes something much more. He thinks Olivia coming home in time for him to finally realise a piece of him was missing, was God giving him a chance he hadn't really earned.

He closes his eyes tightly, because he knows that in the time Olivia spent away, he had never prayed so much. Not even when he attended Church every Sunday when he was married.

In fact, his priest had initially been surprised to see him; but had sat patiently and listened as he unwittingly admitted that losing Olivia had pushed him off-balance.

Because his other half was missing.

He had closed his eyes, much as he is now, and whispered into his hands a hurried prayer.

A plea that wherever Olivia was, she be safe.

He hadn't prayed that hard since Lizzie had been knocked unconscious by a hockey stick when she was ten. And he knew it was because it had been a long time since he had come so close to losing a piece of himself.

Two months later and he has it back.

Maybe God was listening to him after all?

He finds it ironic that despite their initial plan to get dry as quickly as possible was overridden by Olivia's desire for her first bubble bath in two months. So now he finds himself equally as wet, but 

also the most comfortable he's been in a long time. She had insisted on using scented bath salts which had dissolved twenty minutes ago, the scent of jasmine and honey now lingering in the air.

His smile widens as he realises it's the smell of the sweatshirt of hers she left behind when she cleaned out her locker the first time she left.

It's the smell that is embedded in the fabric of the head-rest of her seat in their sedan.

And it's the smell that has been haunting him, teasing him, for the time Olivia has spent on, what felt like to him, the other side of the goddamned world.

But it's so wonderfully familiar that he hugs Olivia a little tighter to him, inhaling deeply as though he might be able to completely absorb this little piece of her.

She nudges him slightly in the ribs and he has to shake his head to remember what she asked him.

He straightens his back slightly in the tub, sighing. "It wasn't working out. We were only making each other unhappy by being together." His lips press to the side of her head, her fingers teasing the hair on his arm lightly.

She nods. "Sounds familiar."

He draws in a quick breath at the parallel Olivia draws between their partnership and his marriage, because there is an uneasy truth to it. He knows straight away he and Kathy made the right decision that blustery night three weeks ago, because as much as it kills him to say, he never fought half as hard for his ex-wife as he is fighting now for another chance with Olivia.

He's suddenly overwhelmed with the irrational fear that for some reason, he's the only one who is so utterly consumed by whatever exists between them. So he moves his hand to where her heart is beating a steady rhythm in her chest, his head still spinning at the bare skin that rests, unexplored, below it.

"Liv." The damp wisps of hair at her ear shift as his breath comes out. "No more running, okay?"

She moves her chin to her shoulder so she can see him, her steady gaze meeting his. "I promise you, El."

She cranes her neck so she can capture his lips in a tender kiss, and he can feel the assurance behind it. He wants to take it further, and by the way Olivia's tongue searches the seam of his lips, he can tell she does as well. But there's still a lot that needs answering, and if they go further than this before they are, he knows she'll regret it.

Because he definitely will.

So reluctantly, he draws away from Olivia's, his finger brushing her swollen bottom lip. "Why did you leave?"

The question hangs in the steamy room, the sound of rain pelting against the small window behind them the only resonance in the room.

"It's complicated," she whispers, turning to look forward.

He smiles again, nudging the back of her head with his nose. "No, you're complicated. They're two completely different things."

She sighs, her back rising against his chest slightly at the effort. "You told me that I had to choose between you and the job, Elliot. I did."

He frowns slightly. "You chose the job?"

She leans her head back onto his shoulder so she can stare at the ceiling. "No. I chose you."

He's confused, because he would say that watching her pack up her things the night after the Gitano case was anything but choosing him.

"Then why did you leave me?" He knows he probably sounds desperate, even lame, but this is the answer he must have.

It's been killing him the entire time she was away.

"I had to know I could do the job without you, Elliot. You made it clear in the corridor that you could separate me and the job. I needed to see if I could do the same."

His heart stills at her honesty, and even though he may not like the answer, he needs to know.

"Could you?"

Her answer doesn't come straight away; her attention moves instead to the toes of her right foot which are toying with the hot-water faucet. He knows the words they exchanged outside Rebecca Clifford's hospital room verbatim, because they have played over and over in his head in a twisted loop each second Olivia was in Oregon.

"I could. But it wasn't the same." She rolls her eyes at the grin that so obviously adorns his face. "My FBI contact found me annoying."

He chuckles. Poor bastard. Olivia on a mission was an amazing thing to bear witness to. But the contact she was working with was obviously an idiot, because Olivia was also the most tender, caring and sensitive officer on the force.

"Did you beat him up?"

Olivia's laughter echoes in the small room. "Didn't get a chance. Not long after I was on a plane straight back home."

"What happened?" he asks as he pulls the plug in the bath so Olivia can refill it with warmer water.

Olivia's toe continues to toy with the tap. "I was made as a cop by the Sheriff and they found the eco-terrorists..." She turns to look at him. "And they weren't in my group."

He shakes his head. "What was it like?"

"Hmm?" The hum from Olivia vibrates through his chest.

"Oregon. Living your life as Persephone James?" He nudges her side at her alias' name.

Olivia shrugs, turning the faucet back off with her toe. "It was different."

He moves his hand to her stomach, his fingers sliding over her smooth skin. "Hmm."

He repeats what she offered him before, hoping she'll elaborate. Because despite how selfish it sounds, he wants her to tell him she was miserable without him.

Just like he had been.

Her head falls back again, her hands running over his forearms. "When I first began this job, I fully prepared myself to be independent. I had my mother, but other than that it was just me."

The sound of water fills the room as Olivia's toe turns the tap back on. "I remember a class I took at the Academy before I began work on the street. It was about your partner, about how the pressures of the job would make you rely on them more than you usually would an individual."

He nods because he took the same course. He remembers it, despite it being over two decades ago, because he turned to his friend next to him and baulked at the idea that he would need anybody other than his wife to get him through the stresses of the job.

And he was well justified in his belief until eight years ago when Olivia Benson walked into his life.

His previous partner had just retired from the force, and spent the majority of their partnership drowning his sorrows at the bar down the street. So when Cragen had informed him Olivia would be his new partner, he didn't feel his emotional dependence would change as a result.

But he was wrong. And she was telling him now, she experienced the same thing.

"But working sex crimes, and working it with you...I just..." she drifts off, her toe turning the tap slowly.

"What Liv?" His hand squeezes her hip, prompting her to continue.

"I didn't expect it to happen to me to such a large extent. I hated working alone in Oregon, but I didn't hate the experience because it allowed me to get away and re-evaluate myself."

He understands what she's telling him completely. The past two months without Olivia have been horrible; but he realises it's because he was alone, not because anything specific had changed about the job. He had fallen into a place where he had taken his partnership with Olivia for granted; where he would wake up in the morning and simply expect to see her walk into the precinct ten minutes late because she stopped to get them a coffee.

Where he would expect to have her sitting patiently next to him in interrogation as he loomed menacingly over a perp.

And where he wouldn't have to turn around to know that Olivia was exactly a step and a half behind him when they were negotiating unfamiliar territory.

Olivia's hands run up and down his thighs, bringing his thoughts back to the present. "I found I could work fine by myself, I've worked alone in the unit before. But I hated not having you around me." She pauses, her head falling forward. "I've never needed somebody like that Elliot. It scares me."

He nods, his hand sliding up her slick back. "Me too." He leans forward so his lips brush her ear. "But I want you, Liv."

Her breath hitches, and her head falls back again. "Christ, El. We don't say things like that to each other. We've been partners about eight years, and there's so much I don't know about you, but I'm sitting here naked.." She gestures to their surroundings, with a trembling hand. "In my bathtub, with your hard-on pressing into my back and you telling me you want me."

He holds Olivia tighter, trying to calm her down. He knows this is as scary as hell for her, because he has half a mind to run in the opposite direction to where it's safe and there isn't so much at risk. And if he's thinking that, then he can only imagine what's going through Olivia's head. There's so much uncertainty ahead for them, but the only thing he knows for sure is he wants Olivia with him when he faces it all.

Olivia shivers, but thankfully, wonderfully, she leans further into him; her hands pulling his arms tighter around her. "Tell me what you want me to know about me Olivia."

She shrugs. "What's your favourite colour?"

He can't help the snort that escapes, but knows she's serious as she tenses in his arms. He doesn't see how her not knowing something as trivial as his favourite colour will change what's happening between them, but he's certain he doesn't want to find out either.

"Blue. My favourite colour's blue." He lets out a quick breath as Olivia relaxes again.

He doesn't tell her the only reason it's his favourite colour is because of the way it looks on her. That around the squad, he'd watch her just a little bit closer when her breasts were pulling against the soft material of his favourite sky-blue blouse.

Nor that in his dreams, when she's begging him to enter her, she's lying amongst his crumpled navy sheets, her fingers clawing at the material as he finally relents and drives her over the edge.

His train of thought isn't helping his aching length one bit, but he's also noticed Olivia's breathing pattern quicken, and for a second, he swears she can read his mind. He knows she thinks this is just her way of delaying the inevitable; because they both know the past eight years of their partnership has come to this.

Olivia knows him better than he does himself and she's terrified, because it works the other way as well.

He knows how she takes her coffee; tall, black with one and half sugars.

She knows how he takes his; tall, black with the half of sugar Olivia leaves behind.

He knows she misses her mother, despite her reluctance to broach the subject.

She knows every child victim's eyes he looks into, his children stare back.

He knows she had to leave to make sure she could stand alone; outside the shadow of their partnership

And she knows, despite making it, all she needs is him.

He doesn't have to say anything to Olivia for her understand what he's thinking; so he lets his lips graze her shoulder-blade as they revel in the comfortable silence.

He feels Olivia's chest expand as she pulls in a deep breath. "Before anything happens between us..." she turns to her side so she can face him properly, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "We need to tell Cragen."

Her dark eyes search his, marks from where her tears have fallen still evident on her pink cheeks. He knows how much the unit and Cragen mean to Olivia, and he thinks Cragen deserves to hear the truth from them before the lies from others.

He nods, dipping his head quickly to kiss Olivia. He's surprised at the insistence of her hands as they grip the sides of his head. It's almost like she's holding onto him; as though she's afraid he might disappear if she loosens her grip.

"Liv," he mumbles against her lips. "Baby, I'm not going anywhere."

She pulls back, her eyes closed. "I want to know that if we don't work out, I'll still have something to fall back on."

Images of them fighting, of Olivia in tears, of her walking out on him fill his head and he drops his head back against the porcelain of the bath. He wants to guarantee Olivia this will be easy, that everything will be okay; but it's them and if he's learnt anything being her partner over time, it's that nothing is certain. Hell, he'd had to accost her at the airport just to get her to talk.

There's no doubt he loves her, because he wouldn't risk so much for both Olivia and himself for anything less. He knows outside the job, Olivia has only herself. Simon is only a new prospect, and he still doesn't trust the man fully.

He knows for him and Olivia to work out, they'll have to work at it. She's not like Kathy, and she won't stand for any of the shit he used to pass as excuses which slowly saw his marriage disintegrate.

But she wouldn't take the risk if it wasn't worth it; she has more to lose than he does. He's been an idiot keeping his feelings to himself; the only thing it's served to do is make those around him miserable – including himself.

Rubbing his finger over her bottom lip, he finally tells Olivia what she deserves to hear. "I love you, Olivia."

She smiles, so widely he can't help but return the sentiment. "I know. I love you, too."

Kissing her deeply, he's not for the first time, amazed by this woman. The last thing he should be doing is questioning this. She's putting all her faith in his hands; the same hands which had let her go in the first place, and she's asking him to follow her over a precipice full of uncertainty.

But he's not afraid anymore; and he can see in her eyes that she's drawing confidence from this.

Because she knows, he'd follow her anywhere.

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**So what did you think? TBC? Let me know. Thanks for any and all feedback!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: If I owned them, we'd seriously get one episode a month. And all it would be is EO making out. A lot. So yeah, not mine.**

**Author's note: God, I've haven't updated in THREE weeks! I feel terrible! I've been so busy with University that I almost got buried by books. Enough excuses! Lol.**

**I have to say, before I continue, that the response to this story has been seriously overwhelming. Like...crazy overwhelming. I LOVE what you guys tell me, so keep it up! Again, this has the potential of ending here. But I know that the majority of you (and by "you" I mean "Sam") want smut, so let me know and I'll get on Chapter 4 ASAP. Woo!**

**Thanks to Allie, Sam, Denise, Hannah and Nettie for their continued support. The latter (lol...I called you latter, Nettie!) more so. You know why.**

**Azarathangel – I told you I would mention you eventually! This is still for you, you amazing reviewer, you.**

**Before I let you get on with the story, Allie decided to be really smart and repost her stories. As a result, she lost all her reviews. So if you have the time, please head over and leave a little note that you've read her amazing stuff! Thanks!**

**Without further ado, Chapter 3. Remember to R&R if you want more!**

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

_I want to see you and Elliot in my office as soon as you get this._

As the water in Olivia's tub had reached a no longer tolerable temperature, her phone which had been resting on the closed lid of the toilet buzzed with the message from their Captain.

Apparently, her FBI contacts had informed Cragen she would be back in New York, and he required both their presence.

Realising they had been given their opportunity to tell Cragen about them, he and Olivia forced themselves out of the cocoon which had kept them from the reality they were facing. Months ago they had been forced to choose between each other and the job; and now they were about to do the same thing.

It was a frightening concept to confront; one he never thought would ever, realistically, occur.

But sitting silent in the SUV outside Olivia's apartment, he had yet to turn the car on as a heavy feeling took up residence in the pit of his stomach.

Olivia's shallow breathing was the only other sound in air around them, and he knew she was thinking of the best way to tell Cragen about the recent turn in events. He also knew she was thinking about the worst case scenario.

But she hadn't said anything yet.

The feeling in his stomach grew in intensity as they approached the precinct. The fact the storm over the city had yet to disappear wasn't helping things. Staring warily at the black clouds through the windscreen of the SUV, he hopes it's not a sign of things to come. Olivia has remained silent in the passenger seat next to him since they left her apartment; the fingers of her right hand toying with the frayed edge of the jacket she had pulled on.

The one she had pulled on over a completely sinful black and white lace panty and bra set.

One he had chosen.

Him.

From her drawer.

His fingers had traced the soft skin of her calves, then her thighs as he pulled the material up.

Higher.

His finger-tips brushing her hips, his lips settling on her shoulder as he made sure they were sitting properly. Her breathing had quickened, and he could feel her pulse where his lips were pressed so tightly.

He kept his hands on her sides until silently, her nose nudging his; she had offered him her bra. Straightening her arms in front of her, he took her lead and looped the straps over each wrist.

His fingers had linked with hers briefly before following the same pattern along her arms as her legs. His touch was just as light and evoked shivers from Olivia which had her quivering against his chest. His palms brushed the underside of her breasts as he moved his chest off her back briefly to do the clasp.

Adjusting the straps on her shoulders, he'd had to pause momentarily at the overwhelming intimacy of the situation.

He'd never been so turned on at simply dressing somebody. And judging by Olivia's erratic breathing patterns, he hadn't been alone.

Shifting in his car seat as he pulled into their parking space at the precinct, he realises that now is probably not the time to think about it. Especially when Olivia still hasn't said anything; his eyes drop quickly to her lap to see her fingers still working overtime on the cuff of her sleeve.

"Liv..." She turns to look at him, her chin trembling slightly. "It'll be okay."

She blinks, slowly, her fingers stilling. "What if it's not, Elliot?"

He turns back to face the wall of the precinct, blurred slightly from the rain that continues to pelt against the car. He hasn't thought about what to do if Cragen disapproves. What to do if IAB have to get involved. Because of their past indiscretions and altercations with the rat squad, he doesn't think something of this magnitude would sit too well with Sergeant Tucker. Tucker already has it in for both of them and he doesn't think Tucker would hesitate to take both their badges.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Olivia swipe at her cheek, her hand dropping just as quickly back into her lap. He knows the only thing she has is the job. She lives to help the victims who remind her so much of her mother. Almost as a way to help the ghosts of her past disappear.

Or to at least stay quiet for a little bit.

He knows it's when he's confronted with reality; the voices get louder, the pictures more vivid. He can only imagine the sorts of things Olivia experiences going home to an empty apartment every night. He knows most of the time she simply drags herself up the stairs to the cribs because it's a little bit easier, a little more familiar.

He's never said anything when he's found her at 6:00 AM rifling through his locker for a hoodie he's left behind. And he believes her when she says it keeps her warmer; but he knows it's not because it's bigger as she claims, but because the familiarity of the scent keeps her grounded.

She's already told him he's all she has. And he knows if Olivia stays with SVU, she'll have the best team watching over her. Fin, Munch, Cragen and even Lake would put themselves in the firing line before Olivia, and he knows the choice they'll have to inevitably make has never been easier.

To him anyway. Convincing Olivia otherwise will be another thing itself.

Elliot reaches across the console for Olivia's hand, her head dropping back against the head-rest at the contact. "What are we going to do, Elliot? You're my partner."

Her voice is thick with emotion; a lone tear escapes, rolling down her cheek to the top of her lip. He brings his hand up to turn her face, using his fingers to turn her towards him.

He leans forward, his lips brushing at the line the tear has drawn along her face. "Olivia," he breathes, his lips a whisper against her skin.

She leans further into his touch, her hands rising to grip the lapels of his jacket. "El, tell me it's going to be okay."

He nods, his nose bumping hers. "Liv, I just got you back..." His lips press against hers gently. He pulls back. "I'm not going to lose you again. I promise."

Her eyes open, and despite the tears he sees a brilliant clarity, one he's been searching for in her in her eyes for a long time. The eyes which held so much pain, so much confusion in the warehouse all those months ago, are pinning him with a gaze full of trust and understanding.

And she smiles, and he can't help but to kiss her again; his tongue seeking entrance to the only home he's ever really known.

This time, Olivia's the one to end it; her hands frame his face as she draws back. "I love you so much."

"I know, beautiful, I love you too." He presses a final kiss to her forehead, before he realises the rain has abated. He squeezes her hand. "Let's go."

Stepping out of the car, Elliot breathes in deeply, inhaling the smell of the city around him as he waits for Olivia to round the car and take the hand he offers her with a shy smile.

He can't wait until they can do this without boundaries and limitations.

Where he can walk with his arm tightly around her waist and tell everybody that she's his.

And of course, that he's hers.

Moving from gravel onto pavement, Elliot finds the sight of the stoop of the precinct almost welcoming. While Olivia was in Oregon, the streets were so much more unfamiliar and unfriendly. It had rained almost constantly; the temperatures falling way below the average for the time of the year.

It was almost as though the city was reflecting his mood.

For the first time in a week, the rain has subsided and he thinks this is probably the sign he was looking for. Looking down at their linked hands and the resoluteness in Olivia's eyes, he's filled with a warmth he's been aching for longer than he cares to remember.

And he knows if Cragen forces them to make the choice, if he has to choose between the job and Olivia; he won't hesitate.

It will be his letter of transference on Cragen's desk in the morning.

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**"

"Olivia, Elliot, come in."

Their Captain steps away from the door, pulling it open further as he moves back. Elliot gently nudges Olivia in before him, following her into the darkened office. The lamp sitting on Cragen's desk is the only source of light, the window to the right of his desk still dark due to the early hour.

Cragen's desk is strewn with files and notes with his messy handwriting scrawled across them. Elliot's willing to bet he's been in his office since the early hours of yesterday morning; and he doesn't know if this is going to help in Cragen's mood at all.

Elliot stops just before the desk, Olivia slightly to his left; her eyes fixed unseeing on the wall behind the mess of papers. As Cragen closes the door quietly behind them, Elliot can literally feel his body thrumming with a nervous energy. He's never realised how small Cragen's office was.

Or maybe he was so used to being at least three feet further away from Olivia.

But with their shoulders almost touching, he can smell the perfume of the bath salts on Olivia's body.

He bristles slightly as he feels Cragen move from behind them to his chair. He feels the muscle in his jaw work as Cragen pulls his chair forward, his hand coming up to brush his tie straight against his chest; his eyes never leave his.

He's never been very good at reading his Captain effectively, and now is no different. In the past he would know what to look for when he was in trouble for going too far for a case or if all the work began to hit too close to home; but when he thinks about it, in the near decade he's spent with the unit, the look Cragen is fixing with him now is one he's never seen before.

And he doesn't know if it's a good or a bad thing.

Once Cragen settles behind his desk, his palms move to rest lightly on the papers spread across the surface and he opens his mouth to say something. Nothing comes out at first, and the office remains deathly quiet.

Except for the rain which has started up again.

"I got a call from you CO in Oregon," he finally finds his voice as he glances down at the yellow post-it stuck to his desk. "An Agent Porter?"

Olivia's eyes shift from the wall to Cragen as she nods; but the expression on her face indicates she doesn't know where he's going with this. "Agent Porter was my liaison officer."

Cragen's eyes rove back to the bit of paper, and Elliot chances a quick glance at Olivia. She remains impassive; the only indication at her state of mind is the way her fingers twitch every few seconds; her knuckles brushing against his thigh lightly from the movement.

She's nervous.

He's suddenly reminded of the way he counted the seconds until the rain was swept away by the wipers while he waited for Olivia. On some level, he takes comfort from the rhythm against the denim of his jeans.

One...

Two...

Three...

He lifts his eyes, and finds Cragen looking back at him, an eyebrow lifted in question. He doesn't have to look at Olivia to know her gaze is now fixed on him as well. Before he opens his mouth to say something, Cragen returns his attention to the post-it, the end of his pen tapping lightly at the surface.

Elliot keeps his eyes on his Captain.

One...

Two...

He brushes Olivia's finger with his index one, and he hears the slight intake of breath at the action. It was a ghost of a touch, to an innocent bystander it would seem like an accident; their proximity making it inevitable. But they both know better than that; he was telling her he was with her.

And as quickly as his fingers were there, they are folded in front of him again like nothing happened.

Cragen lifts his head from the paper, the pen moving to the edge of his mouth. "Agent Porter informed me your flight was due to arrive at the airport at 11pm," he keeps his voice even; quiet.

And for some reason, it's causing Elliot's heart-beat to accelerate slightly.

Cragen leans forward in his chair. "If I'm not mistaken, he also gave you strict instructions to report to me as soon as your flight arrived."

Elliot freezes, and he knows from the way Olivia stands a little straighter; she's caught off guard as well.

"Detective Benson, tell me," Cragen squints at the watch on his wrist and Elliot knows he's making the mental calculations.

There are six hours unaccounted for.

And the only excuse they have won't make the situation any better.

_Sorry Cap, forgot to make the call. I was too busy sitting with Elliot in my bathtub making up for lost time._

No. That would most definitely not go down well.

"Six hours, Detective. Your excuse better be damn good." Cragen sits back in his chair; the squeaking of its ancient legs sends a chill down Elliot's spine.

Olivia's mouth opens and closes helplessly; the tip of the ear Elliot can see begins to flush at Cragen's demand.

Before she gets the chance to get anything out, Elliot steps forward quickly. "I went to pick her up Cap...there was a lot of traffic..."

"Enough." Cragen cuts him off, his voice so loud Olivia flinches next to him. "I wasn't speaking to you, Detective Stabler. Your explanation as to how you knew Detective Benson was arriving last night and the rest of your involvement can wait for now."

Elliot blinks. It's all he can do. He's never seen his Captain this angry before. Not even during the Breslin case when he had almost killed a man with his bare hands.

Nor after his altercation with Blaine after Olivia moved to Computer Crimes.

Or even when he and Fin had almost come to blows in the squadroom because he'd had a particularly shitty day.

He steps back as he folds his arms again, almost as though his forearms can protect him from any more of Cragen's ire. Next to him, Olivia's head is now bowed, her fingers still at her side.

Still, against his leg. He prays, he hopes, Olivia isn't going to give up this easily.

"Detective Benson, I don't want any more excuses about traffic, late arrivals or convenient tragedies. I got off the phone with the airport over a half hour ago." Olivia's head rises slowly and Elliot can see the track marks from where tears have fallen.

Cragen doesn't say anything, and Elliot tries his best to resist the impulse to drag Olivia into his arms. But he can't do that. In this building, and particularly in this office, they are Detectives Benson and Stabler.

And Benson and Stabler don't touch.

The thought alone contradicts so wholly with the images in his head and it takes all his strength not to laugh out loud. Even from minutes ago where he was comforting her with the mere brush of his finger-tips.

He can't believe that forty minutes ago, Olivia was pressed against his chest, naked, in her bathtub; telling him that she loved him.

He can't believe that thirty-nine minutes ago, Olivia's breasts were pressed against his chin as she leant over him to reach for her phone as it buzzed with Cragen's message.

He can't believe that thirty-eight minutes ago, he could taste Olivia on his lips after she kissed him as she dried him off; her mouth turned up in a cheeky smile as she blew the soap suds off his shoulder.

And suddenly, he understands Cragen's anger.

His eyes widen as he realises his Captain knows about them.

The message on Olivia's phone had specifically requested his presence as well. How could Cragen have known?

Casey had been indignant enough at blurting the confidential information as it was; but she'd be the last person to turn them in to Cragen.

Maybe somebody had seen them? He'd practically mauled Olivia against his SUV in plain sight of the terminal doors. But he had been sitting in the car for over four hours, and hadn't recognised anybody of significance.

Their wet hair could easily be attributed to the driving rain outside.

But before Elliot gets the chance to check and see if there's physical evidence of their activities, Cragen's eyes meet his again. He wonders briefly if his Captain really knows, or if it was just a really good guess.

"Do you have an explanation or not Detective Benson?" Cragen's voice pierces through the heavy tension in the room; but it's definitely lost some of its edge.

Cragen's not stupid, and Elliot knows if he pushes Olivia away too far, she won't come back. And he can't afford to lose both of them.

"How about I tell you what I know?" Olivia nods, her thumb swiping quickly at her eyes.

Elliot stands taller in response, shifting his stance slightly. Cragen moves aside a piece of paper, pulling what looks like a fax from the mess in front of him.

"Detective Stabler..." Elliot's ears prick up at the continued formality, his head bending forward slightly in acknowledgement. "Imagine my surprise this evening, when I received a call from One PP, asking why an NYPD permit was being used by one of my detectives to take up an illegal space outside JFK."

Elliot's mind flashes back to the security guard who had passed his SUV on more than one occasion and almost slaps at his forehead at his stupidity.

_Shit._

"Not only was there no reason for _my _detective to be there," Cragen emphasises the word 'my', his voice increasing in volume as he continues. "But _my_ detective was not even on call for the night. So, Detective Stabler, what were you doing?"

Elliot doesn't know how to answer the question correctly; doesn't know what to say to appease his Captain.

He thinks it's probably best to offer Cragen what he's been keeping from him, from everyone, from himself for so long.

The truth.

"I went to pick up Olivia."

Cragen clicks his tongue in response, seemingly unsatisfied with his answer. "Detective Benson's a grown woman; she knows how to find her own way home," he pauses, leaning forward. "Let me ask you again, Elliot. What were you doing?"

He takes a deep breath, his arms falling to his sides. "What do you want me to say, Captain?"

Cragen's eyebrow rises. "I want an answer as to why you were sitting in your SUV with an NYPD parking permit for something off the clock and not pertinent to an investigation for over four hours."

Elliot ignores Olivia's intake of breath next to him, but he can't ignore the way her finger just pressed at his leg. Softly, just a graze.

But she was there.

"Why do you want an answer to a question you already know?" He's surprised at the boldness of his statement, but he doesn't think there's any more value in toeing the line anymore.

Not when the line had been washed away by the earlier rain.

The silence which ensues is an awkward one, and Elliot keeps his gaze unwavering. "Do you know how stupid I look to my superiors when my two best detectives go behind my back like this?"

Elliot swallows loudly, his stomach continuing to churn. "Yes, sir."

Cragen's gaze shifts back to Olivia. "I thought the reason you left for Computer Crimes was because you needed space." He frowns and the lines in his face seem so much deeper. "And I thought you took up the Fed's on their job offer to expand your horizons."

Olivia clears her own throat. "I did. Elliot and I needed a break, and we took it..."

"Enough. From what I've heard tonight and judging from the way you'd been acting around each other before you left, suggests otherwise." He sits back in his chair; the squeak at the sudden weight louder than before.

Elliot steps forward, his hand scrubbing down his stubbled cheek. "Captain, Olivia's right. We needed the space to figure things out; to know where we stood with each other."

Cragen nods warily, his eyes unwavering. "Did you figure it out?"

Elliot looks back at Olivia, a ghost of a smile graces her lips.

_You chose the job?_

_No. I chose you_

Yeah, they'd figured it out.

Elliot turns back to Cragen, eyes roving the wall-space behind his head. "What happens next?"

Cragen rises from his chair, slowly, tiredly. On some level, Elliot feels a small amount of guilt at the situation he and Olivia have put him in. Cragen would have to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions from IAB, and his history with Tucker would mean it wouldn't be pleasant.

Cragen sighs deeply, his hand scratching at his balding head. "You can't be partners anymore, and IAB will probably want one of you to transfer out completely."

Elliot's eyes close momentarily at the news, and he hears another gasp behind him from Olivia. In reality, they both know they can do the job without the other, but he can't fathom working with Olivia at his side. Not yet anyway.

He can't imagine what it would be like to not know the footfalls of his partner, as they canvass yet another crime scene.

Or what it would be like to stay up til 4:00 AM sharing greasy take-out while they brainstormed the seemingly unending twists in their case without Olivia stealing the fortune cookies.

Or how he would feel looking up from his pile of paperwork; looking for the perfect opportunity to shift some of his files out of his own tray to lighten his load, even though Olivia would always look up with his arm in midair.

But he remembers the feel of Olivia in his arms earlier and thinks he can replace those memories with other ones.

New ones.

Ones which include late nights curled up on their sofa as her proximity makes the bad in his world dissipate.

Where she would greet him with a searing kiss every night as one of them arrives home from a gruelling day at work.

And where she would make that sound in the back of her throat as he drives her over the edge first thing in the morning so she thinks of him throughout the entire day.

Elliot nods to himself, convinced at the decision he will ultimately make. But he knows he and Olivia need to talk about it before anything is finalised.

He steps back to stand at her side, his eyes searching hers. He sees the clarity again, the one which had stolen his breath earlier, and he knows she'll follow him.

This time, she'll take the risk with him. Because this time, he's offering her his hand.

And with a brush of her finger against his own, he draws on her strength. "When do you need the notice?"

Cragen sighs again, his eyes dropping to his watch. "I want to know by 5:00 PM this afternoon."

Elliot and Olivia nod, the silence no longer heavy, and he can breathe easier now.

Olivia steps forward hesitantly. "Captain?" He stands, his hands shoving into his pockets. "I want you to know we were going to tell you today anyway."

Cragen keeps his gaze levelled on her; appraising. "That's all, Detectives."

Olivia moves to leave, but stops at the door when she realises he hasn't moved from where he's standing. Elliot looks back briefly, signalling with his hand to wait. He turns back to Cragen, who watches him in mild curiosity. And despite his earlier belief that he couldn't get a read on Cragen's mannerisms, he feels as though something has fallen in place between them.

An understanding seems to pass between the space which separates them.

It's almost as though Cragen has figured he's already made a decision about his job; and Elliot thinks he won't be surprised to see his name at the top of the form later in the afternoon.

He feels like he owes Cragen some sort of explanation. Not an apology. Because he's not sorry.

But some sort of acknowledgement of the amount of time he's spent with him; with the companionship formed between them from the infinite cases they've worked together.

He knows it's not really goodbye, but he has to clear his throat at the emotion which threatens to overwhelm him.

So he does the one thing that seems to be working so well for him.

He holds out his hand.

Cragen pulls his hand from his pocket, a small smile creasing the sides of his mouth. "I'll see you this afternoon, Elliot."

With another short tug, Elliot releases his hand with a curt nod. "Night, Cap."

"Night, Cap," Olivia's voice is soft from behind him; she realises the gravity of the situation.

With a final nod, Elliot turns and follows Olivia back into the squad-room.

Without looking back, they remain silent until they reach the precinct doors; their footsteps resonating in the empty corridors.

Once outside, the air which hits his face is fresh and free of the rain which had been around for so long. He kisses the hand Olivia has taken in hers; and his smile widens at the freedom they now have to do this.

He pulls her into a tight embrace once they reach the SUV, her hair tickling his nose as he inhales her scent. Elliot squeezes her lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before he lets her go.

Turning the car on, he begins to cruise without a destination in mind. But it's been a long time since he's simply wanted to drive along these streets; and he knows it has everything to do with who he has in the passenger seat next to him.

He squints slightly as the first rays of dawn begin to peak through the horizon, and he turns to see Olivia's eyes closed as she absorbs the warmth they offer.

"You wanna get breakfast?" He takes her hand; rubbing her palm with his thumb, eyes back on the road.

"At 5am?" He hears the smile in her question, and he drags her hand to his lips to kiss.

"It's New York, Liv. Somebody's gotta be open." He slows down to allow a stray cat to cross the deserted street.

Olivia remains silent, but he feels her eyes on the side of his head. "You're going to leave aren't you?"

He hears the sadness in her voice, and he raises the hand holding her own back to his mouth. "It's for the best, Liv."

Her hand trembles in his; but she doesn't cry. "I know, but it doesn't mean I have to like it." She shakes her head, turning to look out the window. "You and your fucking self-sacrifice."

Elliot snorts, his hand dropping hers so he can make a tight corner. "Munch, Fin and Cragen will have your back, Liv. And it's only during the day."

Her fingers brush against his; offering him the confidence they had back in Cragen's office. The sun which had refused to break through the clouds during Olivia's stint in Oregon was now promising to come out in full force. Warmth he associates with both its appearance and the feel of Olivia's fingers spreads through his body.

Stopped at a red light, it only intensifies as she leans toward him, her lips pressing against his cheek, her breath hot on his ear. "I guess, but I think you forget the best part of all."

He turns so their lips barely touch, their breaths mingling. "What's that, baby?"

She captures his bottom lip between her own before she pulls back; he brushes her fringe from her forehead.

"I get to come home to you."

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**TBC? R&R, let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: If I owned them, Elliot would never be on screen. He'd be busy acting other things out. Lol. ANYWAY, I don't own them.**

**Author's Note: I think there's like a chip in my brain which is seriously against updating within FIFTY weeks. I'm so sorry. Life has completely gotten in the way; uni assignments have piled on and work continues to be a pain in the proverbial. But here's Chapter 4!**

**I noticed from the reviews of last chapter, that I seem to have gathered a following of perves. That's so cool. Welcome my friends. LOL! Anyway, you guys are totally into the smut! They need to work some shit out before they get it on okay? BUT, this chapter may satisfy some of your desires. I STRESS the word SOME (SAM and HANNAH!). If you want smut, if you want anything, you gotta tell me. So PRETTY PRETTY please, leave me a review and let me know what you think. I'm busy at the moment and again, I can leave the story at this for the time being. Convince me otherwise and the clothes might finally come off next chapter. Deal?**

**Thanks to Sam for providing the setting for this chapter. Apparently, it exists, so hey, you wanna make out with your man (or woman) head there!**

**To my beautiful, beautiful beta. You are the unequivocal best. Even when you need to time for yourself, you still manage to find time for me and my ramblings. Thank you.**

**Enjoy. Read and Review please! And of course, enjoy!**

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"I thought he was going to kill me."

Elliot laughs, wrapping his palms tighter around the flimsy paper cup. It's filled with probably the worst coffee he's ever had. But the steam coming from the surface is keeping his face warm, so he doesn't really mind. Not when the view in front of him is so breathtaking.

The sun continues to crawl up from the horizon, the rays of light reflecting off the water and onto his skin; and can't remember the last time he actually saw something as beautiful as this. He turns his head into the direction of the early morning breeze and winces as it bites at his cheeks and hands. He pulls the cup tighter, the heat from the coffee helping immensely.

It was his idea for breakfast, and Olivia had been partially right about nobody being open at the early hour. But they had been lucky, and found a vendor setting up for the day outside Central Park. They had waited patiently while the overweight and incredibly hairy man filled their cups; then clumsily wrapped their pastries in brown wax paper which looked as if it hadn't been used in years.

Turning from the vendor, Elliot realised the last thing he really wanted to do was go back indoors. Not when his lungs were breathing in so much easier than they had in a long time. He suggested they take their breakfast to a bench somewhere more private.

He watched as Olivia pulled her bottom lip into her mouth as she thought. Taking his free hand, she led him away without a word as the vendor began to look her up and down with an appreciative and seedy smile.

With a warning look back, he found himself being dragged through the North Gate of the park, Olivia silent as the moist earth sunk under their sneakers. He frowned slightly at the intricate path they were following; in all his years in New York and with all the crimes scenes he had visited within the park's perimeter, he had never been to the place Olivia had led him to.

From less than twenty feet away, he'd heard the distinct sound of running water; the noises of the city completely drowning out the further they moved within the park. Rounding a turn in the path, a bridge replaced pavement; below which, was the source of the sound he'd heard further back.

Holding hands tightly, they had helped each other traverse the uneven ground leading down to the water's edge. Before the entrance to the tunnel, Olivia had bent quickly to deposit their breakfast on a protruding rock; taking in a deep breath, she dropped to sit cross-legged on the cold surface, her face bright as she patted the spot next to her.

Now, there was nothing but the sound of birds and trickling water around them; a puff of air escapes his lips as thoughts about inner peace and finding his centre momentarily cross his mind.

Since when did he become so bloody introspective? Maybe Olivia's brief stint as a pseudo hippie was already rubbing off on him.

Realising Olivia is watching him curiously; he covers for his silence by taking another sip of his coffee, buying himself a few more seconds to remember what they were talking about. He has a feeling he might have to get used to this; Olivia is becoming more and more of a distraction.

A welcome distraction, of course.

"Cragen loves you, Liv," he grimaces at the bitter aftertaste. "Me on the other hand...he was probably thinking of the most effective way to kick my ass."

Olivia shakes her head, her smile growing, but she doesn't disagree. She shifts against him as she draws her knees up so she can rest her elbows on them; her tea balancing precariously in her fingertips; but her attention has been drawn back to the area surrounding them.

"I miss this place." Her voice is soft, barely audible above the rustling of the trees.

He turns to look at her, surprised at the abrupt change in subject. He hasn't asked why she brought him here, why she's been so quiet since they've sat down. But if he knows anything about her, it's that she'll speak to him on her own terms; when she's ready. So instead of avoiding the subject like they've been adept at doing for so long; he simply nods, showing her he's listening; to continue.

To tell her something about herself, something he doesn't know.

"Do you remember the Eldridge case?"

Her question surprises him, and he levels her with a curious gaze. She's looking out at the water, her fingers picking at the cheap plastic cover of her cup. She _wants _him to know.

"Denise Eldridge," he answers slowly. "The alcoholic."

Olivia's smile disappears; replaced now with a wry smirk. Her head drops forward, and her fingers pick up speed. She's apprehensive, and he knows he's just as nervous; because they don't do this.

Benson and Stabler talk shop; their personal lives kept personal. It was their way of keeping perspective; of staying grounded. They allowed the other the space to figure out personal issues because it worked for their partnership.

But next to him, pressed so tightly to his side, isn't Detective Benson. Not right now anyway.

It's Olivia.

And if whatever lying between them is to work; he's going to have to reach out. He starts by taking her cup of tea from her hand, placing it next to his own on his right. He slides his hand to hook over her leg, his forehead resting against her temple.

He kisses the side of her head. "Tell me something I don't know about you, Liv."

Her hand comes up to cup his jaw and she presses her lips against his quickly, her thumb swiping at his chilled cheek. "This is where I come when I want to get away."

"From what?" He shifts her bangs to the side.

"Everything," she shrugs. "Nothing."

He nods, because he knows what it's like to want to get away from it all. He's never really had the luxury; he always had people relying on him to put on a brave face when he was hurting most. But when it did get too much, he also had a place he would find himself drawn to.

His old house in Queens had a deep backyard; lush with trees and shrubbery along with an antique mahogany seat his in-laws had bought him and Kathy when Kathleen was born. Hidden from the view of his old bedroom and the kitchen window, he would allow himself the space to alleviate the suffocation of his responsibilities and the job.

And although he never admitted it, he would more than often end up in tears. Despite the obvious tracks on his cheeks and the redness of his eyes, Kathy never questioned him. Which was good, because he never really had an answer; sometimes, he just needed the time alone.

He understands fully then, why Olivia has a place like this.

"The first time I came here was when I was sixteen," she breaks the silence, sitting up straighter. "My mother was drunk, and I came this close," she holds up her thumb and index finger together to indicate the hair's breadth, "to killing my mother. Her head hit the wall so hard, I thought I had."

She lets in a wracked breath, her jaw clenches as she tries to hold back the onset of tears. "She was bleeding and she told me to get out; so I ran. I didn't even see where I was going until I ended up here."

He turns to look at their surroundings again, and can see the appeal. The silence isn't judging, isn't expectant, isn't questioning.

It doesn't make you want to do things you'll regret.

It calms you; allows you a moment of clarity which the outside world deprives you of when things get too hard.

And she was sharing it with him. She was closing the gap they had worked so hard to maintain the past two years of their partnership and the thought alone has him closing his eyes tightly as they fall into silence again.

But for the first time in a long time, it's a welcome one. One full of understanding and potential; both concepts he thought had fallen out of his grasp when Olivia left for Oregon.

But she was giving it back to him.

_She was giving him a second chance._

_Another shot._

He'd be stupid to let it go again, so he pulls her tighter and his voice rasps out. "I used to sit alone in my backyard in Queens, Liv. I'd sit there and I'd think about how much easier my life would be if I hadn't knocked Kathy up, and I'd cry at how selfish that sounded."

He feels her tears on his nose as it presses into her cheek. "I'd cry for what a shitty father it made me seem like." He kisses her roughly, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "I'd cry for all the victims we couldn't save on any given day."

He doesn't quite know where this sudden inclination to share all of this has come from, but he knows he won't stop it.

Can't stop it.

She turns her face to meet his lips again, a strangled moan escapes as his hand runs down the side of her body. "When was the last time you came here?"

He breathes the question onto her lips and he's not sure he wants to know the answer. He fears the last time she was forced to get away, was because of him; but as her tongue seeks his out, he knows it's no longer matters.

As long as he's the reason she keeps coming back.

She pulls back, her lips swollen; eyes unwavering. "After I told Cragen I needed a new partner, I came here because I thought I'd find something telling me I'd made the right decision."

His eyes drop quickly to her lips and back up. "And did you?"

She cocks her head, her bangs brushing tips of her eyelashes again. "You're my partner Elliot, but we did need the space. At the time, it may have seemed rash; but in hindsight, it was for the better."

He knows she's right, but he doesn't have to like it. But rather than arguing, he thinks kissing Olivia is a much better form of communication.

They're better at that sort of thing anyway.

Olivia seems to notice a shift in his mood because her eyes have dropped to his mouth and stayed there, her own open slightly as she dispels little puffs of air; still catching her breath. He doesn't give her much of a chance as he ducks his head and captures her lips in a searing kiss; Olivia's hands rising quickly to cup his jaw.

Despite the wind, her lips are soft and pliant as his tongue delves and pushes against her own. He feels the vibration of another moan on the tip of his tongue as his right hand somehow reaches through the layers of clothing to run along the heat of her skin. His fingertips blaze a trail of fire, her stomach muscles contracting as his hand runs across them.

He can't remember a time when he's been overwhelmed by such conflicting sensations. The wind is bitter and unrelenting against his skin, but he's burning up. Olivia's mouth is hot against his; her hand is smouldering on his back as she pulls his shirt from the waistband of his jeans.

It's not tentative and as Olivia bucks up against his hardening length, he realises he shouldn't have expected it to be.

Not when their fights left a tension so thick, it took days to clear.

Not when the electricity between them was so fierce it practically crackled with life.

Not when Detective _Unstable_ Stabler was pressed so closely, so intimately, to Detective _Kickass_ Benson.

The thought alone drives a groan through him so loud it forces his lips from Olivia's. But he's more than happy to make do with the amount of skin on her neck on offer, his hands moving down her body in a hard direct line. Their destination is very apparent, and from the way Olivia shifts her hips, she's on the same wavelength.

"Elliot, someone might come." Despite her protest, she leans her head back further so he can suck on the skin showing above her sweater and jacket.

"Yeah," he breathes onto her skin, hands still working the button of her jeans. "You, hopefully."

Her neck vibrates against his lips as a laugh rumbles through her. "That sort of line work on Dani?"

If she had said that to him twelve hours ago, he might just have walked out of any room they were in. Hell, he'd have probably slammed something in frustration and revelled in the way she would have flinched at the sound. At the way he'd use his body to take up more space than necessary just to intimidate her as much as possible.

But now he plans to use his body in a more productive way; and the sounds coming out of Olivia's mouth tells him she won't offer much by way of complaint.

He can't help the grin which seems to have permanently fixed itself on his face, and he continues his ministrations without pausing; his hands nimbly tugging the zipper of her jeans down despite their numbness.

He pauses however, when he feels Olivia's hand leave his back. He looks up curiously to see her reach behind her, her hand coming up with their now flattened breakfast.

She wrinkles her nose. "Wasn't going to eat it anyway."

He laughs, taking the destroyed pastries from her hands to throw it somewhere behind her. "Where was I?"

His lips descend onto Olivia's, and he feels a breeze on his back as her hands draw the material of his shirt up as far as his jacket will allow. She shifts so her legs are open wide enough to accommodate him, his right hand pulling her left leg as high up onto his hip as the position will allow; trying to get closer.

He wants to get _closer_.

Her head dips back further, breaking contact with his lips; her heart beating a fast rhythm against his chin as his lips brush against the top of her breasts. "Elliot, Jesus...stop."

He brings his head up and stills his hands. "Liv?"

Her hands pull out from under his jacket to cover her eyes; which are still closed and tilted away from his pressing gaze. He brushes her cheek, turning his hand it so he can pull her own away, repeating it with her other one. But her eyes are still closed.

"Liv?" He rubs her thigh. A smooth circle in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

She lifts her head to look at him, a huge smile on her face. "We are not going to have sex in the middle of Central Park when I can't even feel my ass, Elliot." She runs her hand down his stubbled cheek. "I had to stop you before we got too carried away."

He lets out a strangled groan as his hard-on remains pressed intimately against the heat between her legs; and he tries to even out his breathing. "You're going to kill me woman."

Her palms move to flatten against his chest, not quite pushing him off; but he knows if he wants to save face, he'll need to move anyway. "You okay?"

He grunts, closing his eyes. He tries to picture as many unsavoury things as possible while counting backwards from thirty. He lifts himself up off Olivia, moving to her side; but he keeps his eyes closed. Because if he sees her swollen lips and mussed up hair, he'll need to count back from three hundred. And they need to make a stop at the precinct before heading home.

He doesn't really want to wait longer than necessary.

Olivia remains silent at his side; but he can feel her moving, obviously rearranging her clothes to something more decent.

By the time he gets to Munch and Cragen dancing naked in the precinct, he decides it's now safe to open his eyes. Olivia's fixing him with what he, in the past, would determine to be a sympathetic gaze. But there's a sparkle in her eye which tells him she's not sorry. Not one little bit. And he has to say, neither is he.

If this was just a preview, he can't wait until he gets her alone.

Finally.

She tilts her head to the side, and the sunlight picks up on the blonde hue of her hair. "God, you're beautiful, Liv," he says it so softly; so reverently, he thinks he may not have said it at all.

But the way Olivia's lips curve into a smile; the way she averts her gaze as if she doesn't believe him, tells him that she has. "I'm still not having sex with you here, Elliot."

He shakes his head, tucking the tails of his shirt back into his pants. "No wonder your Feeb found you so irritating."

Olivia's foot pushes out to kick his shin, and he pulls at his leg as if he's in an incredible amount of pain. "You're an idiot."

"You're violent." He rubs his leg, accepting his coffee Olivia holds out in front of him.

She shrugs in indifference at his words, leaning her head back to finish her tea. "I don't want to wait all day to talk to Cragen, El."

"We can go now." He finishes his own beverage, wincing again at the aftertaste. "Tell the squad while we're there."

Olivia nods, running a hand through her hair, shifting her bangs. "And then?"

He feels like he should check in a mirror to see if his face has broken in two from all the smiling he's doing. "We go somewhere more comfortable?" He lifts himself up from the cold rock, his knees cracking as he straightens his legs.

Olivia's eyebrow rises in scepticism. "You sure you can make it, old man?"

He holds out his hand, lifting her to her feet. He uses her forward motion to pull her tightly against him; his hard-on still not completely gone. "You have nothing to worry about." Her eyes are wide as his hand slides over her behind. "That's a promise."

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**TBC? Please Read and Review! Thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Nope. **

**Author's Note: Woah, I have NO idea where to start. It's been...:checks calendar: over a month since I've updated. I'm so terrible. BUT, I had this hugely terrible period of exams and assignments which only finished last week. So instead of partying and getting blind drunk, I've spent my free nights since writing this. Just for you guys! **

**Now that I've posted this, I can catch up on all the reviews I owe all you amazing authors. I haven't deserted you guys I promise, I just have to think of where to begin. Cheska, I'll get there, you're top of my list. **

**Before you continue, again, I have the option of leaving the story here. It ends quite nicely I think, but I know most of you are smut-lovers who want some action. Well, I have something in mind, but I won't post it, if you guys don't want it. So let me know. Take three seconds to leave me a lovely review! It took me a lot longer to write this. Believe me. As I stayed up til 2am the night before an exam, I wrote the outline of this story because I felt guilty that I was taking so long (which led to some loverly EO dreams). So press the little button (it's really exciting!) and type something in the little box and press... "SUBMIT"...and you're done. Yay!**

**I also wonder if anyone actually reads these...so as an experiment, when you leave a review, begin it with the word "buddy" just so I can gauge how many people read these. **

**Thanks to my lovely beta who read this and went through this line for line with me. I appreciate it so much. HUGS AND NAKED KISSES! See? I said naked kisses 'cause it's slightly less scary then naked hugs. Unless they're with CM. Lol. **

**Scar, you rock my world. Thanks for the lovely emails. To all my other buddies, you know who you are. This is for you guys.**

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"I dreamt about you."

His eyes leave the road briefly in response to Olivia's statement. He shouldn't be surprised by what she's said. In fact, from the things they have shared in the past few hours, he should be immune for the rest of his life. He wants to say he now knows the woman next to him more than he'd known her in seven years of partnership.

But it's not the whole truth.

He now knows about Olivia things he doesn't think she'd ever really known about herself.

He's always known Detective Benson despite her best efforts to stay private.

Yet, he can say he finally knows her completely.

Almost.

Because there is so much more to know about her; that he _wants _to know.

He wants to know what she looks like first thing in the morning when she wakes up in his arms, the sunlight warming their bare skin.

He wants to know what she looks like last thing at night when they're on the sofa, the TV on in the background while they help each other forget the crap day they had.

And he definitely wants to know what sort of mother she'll be to the children he eventually wants to give her.

He shakes his head slightly because he knows he's getting ahead of himself; Olivia has only been back in New York for all of fifteen hours or so and he's ready to propose marriage. He should be more scared about that than he actually is, but he can't bring himself to when he's enjoying this new found intimacy Olivia is willing to share with him.

He brings her hand up from his thigh and kisses her fingers. "Was it a nice dream?"

Olivia draws her bottom lip under her teeth and pretends to think about it. "It was okay."

"Just okay?" He quirks his eyebrow up in interest, and he nips at the finger Olivia rubs against his lip.

She smiles, leaning forward so she can whisper in his ear. "I was woken up." He shifts in the seat, trying his best to concentrate on the traffic ahead of him. "We didn't get to finish what we'd started."

He realises just in time that the car in front has stopped at the red traffic light and the car jerks forward roughly. "Shit, Liv. You're going to kill us."

Her laughter tinkles in his ear, and she pushes back, her head falling against the window as she levels her gaze at him. "I'm not the one driving, baby, you are."

"That's not the point," he smiles to show her he's not completely serious. "I just don't think it helps when you're..."

She cuts him off by grabbing his hand again. "At one point, I think your hand was here." He swallows audibly; the tips of his fingers slip under the soft material of her shirt and brush softly against the underside of her breast.

He thinks God is listening to him somewhere, because the next set of lights turn red as the car approaches. Olivia's head is leaning against the glass behind her, her eyes fluttering shut as his fingers spread and move up and under her bra. She lets out a breathy moan, his fingers bringing her nipple to a beaded peak. His eyes flicker behind Olivia's head and he notices the occupants of the car next to them staring at his ministrations.

But he can safely say he doesn't really care. He's never been one for public displays of affection, but Olivia has awoken in him a desire to demonstrate, as often as possible, that she's his.

Nobody else's.

He brings his hand out from under her shirt, sifting it through the hair at the back of her head to draw her towards him. "When we finish with Cragen, I'm taking you back to your place and you're going to show me every single place your hands and my hands were."

Her eyes dart between the both of his, her breath hot and ragged against his lips. "It was a while back." She lifts her head to capture his lips in a quick kiss. "It might take a little experimenting, to, you know...remember exactly where they were."

He closes his eyes and shifts in the seat, a rush of heat suddenly overcoming him. Not only because his body is responding ridiculously quickly to her words, but because he realises they can talk about these things now. He can think about the way Olivia will feel once he has her under him.

Or on top of him.

All over him.

She'd be wet for him. Without having to even think about it for a second, he knows this.

He knows that when he finally slides into her warmth – she'll cry out, her nails raking over his skin; her mouth at his ear, whispering words of encouragement as she nears the edge. Her moans will pitch as his fingers seek out the nub of nerves he knows will push her into oblivion.

He's brought back to reality by the feel of Olivia's tongue on the seam of his lips; and he's only too happy to accommodate, his mouth opening to accept the invasion. Olivia's hands grip the sides of his jaw, pulling him as close as physically possible. She completely steals his breath in her quest for dominance and she purrs in the back of her throat as his hand finds its home back under her shirt.

He has half a mind to turn the car around and take her back to her apartment to have his way with her, but he can't bring himself to end it. He's never experienced such a loss of control when it comes to this sort of intimacy; he was always the one to lead or initiate anything in his past experiences.

But this is different. This is almost primal. He feels like he's burning up in his own skin; the points of contact where Olivia's hand and mouth currently reside, the most prominent areas. And one very obvious region constrained by the denim of his jeans and cotton of his boxers. He might very well explode from their activities; and he has to keep reminding himself that he and Olivia have done nothing more than exchange a few heated kisses and caresses.

He shouldn't be surprised, if he's being completely honest, because the thing she's currently doing with her tongue is something he's dreamt about for longer than he's willing to admit. He groans, slanting his head to the right almost as if he can get just a little closer. He knows it's impossible, and by the feel of Olivia's lips curving into a smile against his, he can tell she was probably thinking the same thing.

The sound of car horn slices through the moment, and he draws his lips from Olivia's slowly. His breath is so uneven; he has to close his eyes for a second to even it out so he doesn't pass out on the steering wheel.

Olivia adjusts her top next to him, her fingers stroking at her swollen lips and then her mussed up hair. Clearing his throat and shifting once more in his seat, he offers the car behind an apologetic hand gesture before accelerating through the intersection.

They remain silent for a minute, the sounds of their heavy breathing the only exception. He can see Olivia's wide smile in the corner of his eye, her fingers continuing their route around the outside of her mouth.

"I'm afraid to ask, because it might result in me taking you in the parking lot." Olivia snorts with laughter and she shakes her head in amusement. "But you look like you've got something on your mind."

She purses her lips as though she's trying to suppress a laugh. "I just realised something, that's all."

He turns into the parking lot of the precinct, waiting for an officer he doesn't recognise to cross in front of the car. "And what's that?"

She doesn't answer straight away, instead she points out a free space to the right. He turns the wheel effortlessly as he glides into the space, turning to face Olivia as he cuts the ignition. "Well?"

She shrugs, undoing her seatbelt and opening her car door in the same movement. "Just that...what your tongue was doing just then." She hops down from her seat. "It was doing that inside a completely different place in my dream."

"Christ, Liv."

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"Elliot!"

He tries not to visibly recoil as the voice of Dani Beck sounds through the hallway. Olivia stops and turns a couple of steps ahead of him, her eyes moving from his to where Dani's calling from and back again; a small tilt of her head indicating she'll catch up with him when he's done. He offers her a brief smile and a wink; and watches as she looks once more over his shoulder before turning and making her way to the squad-room.

He turns silently to Dani; her gaze not directed at him, but at the doorway where Munch and Fin have pulled Olivia aside into an animated conversation; her laughter ringing down the corridor. It swells within him an emotion he doesn't quite know how to describe, but if the heat it's generating through his body is anything to go by, it's incredibly positive.

"Who is she?" Dani's eyes are on him now; her tone voice indicates a vague curiosity below the sting in her question.

He doesn't know quite how to answer, so he shrugs instead, scratching his nose. "My old partner."

Dani nods, and as she does, he sees realisation flash in her eyes so quickly he thinks for a minute he may have imagined it. "What's she doing here?"

He ignores the bite of anger her unassuming question causes, turning to face her more fully, his arms folded in front of him. "She's just finalising some paperwork with Cragen."

There's a steeliness to his voice which Dani doesn't miss, so she doesn't pursue her line of questioning. Instead she pulls the file from under her arm and hands it to him while her eyes move back to the direction of the squad-room.

"This the Bodine file?" He flips open the folder, seeing the DD-5 he'd left behind two days ago.

Dani nods, following him as he begins to walk in the direction of the bull-pen. "You forgot to sign it before we left for the pub the other night."

He almost trips over his own feet at the memories which flood his brain.

Dani and him drinking in the pub after they closed the Bodine case.

Dani and him laughing in the cool night air as they walked to their car.

Dani leaning into him desperately as he gave into temptation for human contact – to feel something that wasn't emptiness.

He'd almost forgotten.

From the steam of Olivia's bathroom to their breakfast in Central Park, he's found himself so absorbed in the promises of a future with Olivia, he's overlooked the present. A present which includes a co-worker who still believes there might be something there between them.

He thought he'd made himself clear the other day, but Dani's reaction to Olivia's presence has suggested otherwise. He closes his eyes briefly at the mess he's got himself into. If he wants to make it better, he's going to have to take Dani aside and talk to her soon.

When he opens his eyes again, he's met with the image of Olivia perched on the edge of his desk; smiling widely at something Munch is telling her.

He sees Dani pause momentarily in the corner of his eye, the fingers of her left hand rubbing against her jeans in a nervous gesture. Munch and Olivia continue to talk animatedly, Olivia's eyes finding his briefly as she hits Munch's shoulder at one of his comments.

"Elliot?" Dani's voice again pulls him back from his musings. She taps her pen impatiently against the surface of the desk, holding it out to him once she has his attention.

He places the file on his desk, taking the pen Dani's offering. He can't help but inhale the scent of Olivia's hair as he leans next to her as he signs his name.

He realises as he does that this might be the last file he completes as an SVU Detective, so he raises his head and takes in his surroundings.

This is the place which has been his second home for such a large part of his life. He still remembers when he first started, and the way he burnt his hand on the coffee machine because he'd never used 

one before. Munch had looked over his sunglasses at him with a wry smile and told him not to worry; he'd keep the coffee supply flowing.

The next day he'd found the best coffee cart down the street which, despite the passing of time, still sells the cheapest and tastiest coffee in the city.

He still remembers spending his first night away from his family after starting the job. He'd sat at his desk, staring blankly at the photo of him and his kids thinking if he stayed at work, he wouldn't burden them with the world of darkness he'd experienced that week. The warmth of the crib and the pictures of his children were the only things keeping him from contemplating the service end of his Beretta.

The next day he'd taken his children to the zoo; and during the seal show, he'd felt the laughter of his children overwhelm his negative thoughts completely.

He still remembers seeing Olivia for the first time; the way she paused in the doorway to the precinct. She had an oversized black leather handbag on her shoulder, a manila folder in her hands and a harassed look on her face. The smile she offered him however, when he asked if he could help her find whoever she was looking for, played on his mind the entire day and even when he got home.

The next night was the first one he spent sleeping on his couch.

He looks up from what he's doing as Olivia laughs loudly at something Munch tells her; and he sees the same smile on her face which he remembers so fondly from seven years ago. Her hair has changed dramatically, but she still has the same killer body and despite pushing forty, her face is still as gorgeous as the day he first saw her all those years ago.

Olivia catches his eye and winks. She does it so subtlety he could easily have imagined it; but the heat he feels creeping over him suggests otherwise. He can't believe he's waited so long to tell Olivia he loves her. They have _a lot _of making up to do. Or was it making out?

Either way, he can't wait.

Cragen's voice breaks his train of thought. "Detectives Stabler and Benson," he raises his hand to gesture at them. "My office."

Elliot closes the file and slides it to Dani, working a kink in his neck as he heads towards Cragen's office. Olivia waits for him in the doorway, stepping in before him just before he reaches her. He nods to Cragen as he passes, waiting for him to close the door behind them before he takes a seat.

Elliot feels a strong sense of de ja vu –the setting the same as earlier in the morning. Except this time, Cragen seems much more relaxed; almost as though he's resigned himself to the fact he's going to lose one of them as a Detective the next time they leave the precinct.

On this occasion however, Olivia takes a seat in one of the old vinyl chairs, the legs squeaking slightly at the heaviness with which she drops into it. Her body language suggests a level of tiredness he can relate to – yet her eyes are still alert, her cheeks slightly flushed from their morning activities.

He also feels a heaviness in his bones which he attributes to both being awake for over twenty-four hours and the emotional baggage which has been lifted from his conversations with Olivia. He wants to lie in bed and sleep for the next ten years.

Scratch that.

He's already been doing too much waiting when it comes to him and Olivia.

No, he wants to lie in bed with Olivia and learn about her body until he knows it better than his own.

He wants to kiss her until he finds the exact combination with his hands and tongue which provoke the small growl from the back of her throat which sends a shiver down his spine.

He wants to make up for lost time.

_Time._

He has that now. Just when he thought he was just wasting his own and those around him. And just when he thought he'd finally run out of it.

The taste of Olivia still on his lips only reinforces it, and he has to sit down quickly and cross his leg to try and stop his body from reacting.

Yeah, he'd make up for it.

Olivia sits in the chair next to him, unconsciously shifting it closer to his. She looks at him, her nose crinkling slightly with her smile at the gesture. Just as quickly, however, they look back to where Cragen is standing behind his desk, shuffling through files in a filing cabinet.

He pulls out some loose sheets of paper, muttering under his breath as he does. Elliot and Olivia remain silent in their chairs, and briefly exchange curious looks.

Cragen clears his throat. "I called One PP today, to inform them I was going to lose one of my detectives." He closes the drawer with his hip, sliding into his seat without looking up. "I assumed it was you, Elliot?"

Elliot nods, scratching the stubble on his chin. "And I asked them if there were any openings." He pulls his chair closer to his desk. "Any vacancies for an experienced detective in Manhattan."

Elliot continues to nod, a slight frown creasing his forehead. He didn't particularly like the tone of Cragen's voice, and it didn't help that he didn't know where this was heading towards.

"In short, Elliot; there are none." Cragen folds his hands in front of him, eyes moving between Olivia and Elliot.

His heart beat accelerates slightly. "What does that mean? There aren't any vacancies anywhere?"

Cragen nods, letting out a deep breath. "Budget cuts means overtime has to be reduced and _that _means less gold badges and more cops on the street."

In the back of his head, Elliot registers the feel of Olivia's warm hand on his forearm – but his senses are overwhelmed with a numbness; a silent ringing in his ears. Cragen is fixing him with a concerned look and Olivia's hand is more insistent on his own, but he can't quite breathe.

He'd assumed transferring out would equate to him simply moving to another precinct in another division. He didn't think this would be the end. He doesn't know what a life as anything other than a detective is like.

What it's like not to have the comforting weight of his holster and badge on his hips.

He clears his throat in the hope of dislodging the lump which is forming in his chest; to clear his airways. He panics momentarily as he tries to figure out the last time he took a whole breath.

But then he feels Olivia's fingers in his own and he's brought back somewhat. "I'm okay," he whispers; to himself or to Cragen and Olivia he's not entirely sure. "So what happens now?"

Cragen's lip twitches slightly at the corner as he slides the first piece of paper in front of him. "You sign here to indicate your transference from SVU."

Elliot leans forward, his hand shaking slightly as he reads the paperwork, the pen sliding along the dotted line in what he barely registers as his signature.

It's so surreal.

With a simple flourish of a ball-point pen, the near decade he's spent as an SVU Detective – more as an officer – has ended.

He still hasn't moved the pen from the end of the 'r' – the tip still pressing into the paper. He feels Olivia's hand move from his arm, to his back, her forehead pressing against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispers against his shirt, her lips warm against the cotton. The warmth of her lips is joined by a dampness and it takes him a second to realise it's her tears.

If he ever needed proof that what he was doing was in his best interest – he has it soaking into the material of his tee. Olivia tears are not only because she's losing him as a partner, but because she's crying _for _him. For the loss _he _is experiencing.

Right here, right now, he is in love with her all over again.

The pen falls from his fingers and he watches as it rolls back towards Cragen; whose hand reaches out just before it reaches the edge. "You'll still need this."

Elliot looks up in curiosity and notices the same quirk present at the corner of Cragen's mouth. "What for?"

Cragen slides the baby blue piece of paper which has been sitting at his right side innocuously until it hits the tips of Elliot's fingers. "Apparently, they don't currently require the services of a detective. So, I rang around some more." He pushes the pen back to Elliot as well. "And the 2-2 is in dire need of a new Captain. And from what I hear, they're eager to have you."

He feels the smile on his face before he realises he'd started. "But that is of course, with your consent."

This time, he is behind every letter of his name as he signs, Olivia's hand continuing its heated caresses. He can feel her smile against his shoulder and she squeezes his bicep as he dots the 'i' in his first name.

"I'll send this off the One PP now, and I'll let you know when more information comes through." Cragen takes the paper off him, turning his chair to face the fax machine.

While Cragen's attention is diverted, Elliot sneaks a quick kiss on the tip of Olivia's nose, laughing as she feigns distaste with a wipe of her hand. He watches Olivia look to where Cragen is still fidgeting with the controls of the fax; before the same hand she used to wipe at her face, grabs his chin to bring him in for a quick, hot kiss.

Cragen still isn't looking; his focus is on the piece of paper feeding back as the fax sends. Elliot's heart races as he realises with a simple press of the "Send" button, he's just taken on an immense amount of responsibility.

He really can't wait. It'll be a good change to move away from the world of SVU; one long overdue.

Cragen turns back around to face them. "So what about you, Olivia?" Olivia raises her head in curiosity. "You ready to come back?"

She nods, clearing her throat. "I'll be back on Monday if there's still room."

Cragen smiles, standing from his seat. "Always."

Elliot and Olivia follow suit and make it to the door before Cragen speaks again." You telling the squad or am I?"

Olivia holds the door ajar, their backs to the squad as they contemplate the question. Elliot looks down at Olivia's upturned face and almost instantly regrets it. She's fixing him with a look which indicates she's tired of waiting – and if they were anywhere else, clothing would be totally overrated. His thoughts are justified as Olivia's hand finds its way under his shirt again, her fingers trailing up and down his spine. He stands a little straighter and hopes no one in the squad is paying any attention.

God, it's almost too much because less than ten hours ago he had an image in his head of him and Olivia, in this environment, as partners who didn't touch. But Olivia's hand is burning an inferno along the skin of his back – and it doesn't feel wrong.

It feels so right.

"So...we're, uh." He reaches up to rub his chin in the hope Cragen will keep his attention at his face then anywhere below his waist. "We're going to head off now."

He barely manages to get the sentence out; and he thinks it's lucky there's an interview in the room next to Cragen's office because otherwise he'd take her there now.

Blinds or no blinds.

And if Olivia doesn't stop blowing puffs of air into the shell of his ear, Cragen's desk might just face the same fate. Speaking of his Captain, he needs to start giving him more credit than he does; because he swears Cragen's eyes have shifted briefly from his face to Olivia's. It would at least explain the abrupt pause in breathing against his ear.

Cragen clears his throat. "Actually, Detective Benson can." He lifts looks down to his desk, pulling a file from a large stack. "But you, Detective Stabler, have work to do."

He frowns, trying not to deflate as visibly as he feels inside. "But I thought...I signed..."

Cragen lifts his eyebrow in slight amusement, and he knows his disappointment is probably written all over his face. "That kicks in on Monday. Until then, you still work for this Unit."

Elliot nods, holding his hand out for the file. "What is it?"

Cragen's hands disappear into his pockets and he rocks back on his heels slightly. "You and Beck have a stakeout on the West Side." His eyes move back to Olivia who is completely still behind Elliot. "When you're done, you can go home."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"You want a coffee?"

It's the third time Dani's tried to make conversation; the first time when she asked him the time and the second when she asked whether his leg was as numb as hers. And as much as he knows what's coming, a part of him doesn't want to confront it. He wants to completely forget what happened, and move on. But he owes it not only to himself and Olivia, but to Dani to work it out.

He turns to where she's pouring a cup of coffee from the thermos. "Yeah, I'll take a cup."

Her hand jerks somewhat as he finally breaks the pattern of one-way conversation; but she nods as she hands him the cup she's just poured. She leans forward to pull out another cup, filling that one as well, the scent of coffee permeating the chilly air inside the car.

The coffee is extremely hot, and burns his tongue a little at the first sip. "It's hot...It's good."

Dani nods, keeping her gaze focused on the area in front of the car and at the bodega they're keeping watch of. "Some rookie cop made it. I just stole it."

Despite himself he feels his chest vibrate with laughter at her statement. "At least Munch didn't make it."

Dani nods in agreement; and she fidgets to get into a more comfortable position in the seat. A heavy silence falls between them, the steam from the coffee beginning to fog the front window. Putting the coffee down carefully, he pulls the cuff of his jacket over his hand and wipes at the windscreen, using his free hand to wind down his window slightly to allow some air inside.

Perhaps this was what Dani was waiting for, because no sooner is he sitting back in his seat, she's turned in her seat to face him. "What were you and Olivia doing in Captain's office?"

He keeps his eyes ahead, because they're still on the job; the last thing he wants to do is let this guy get away because he was too involved in a personal conversation. He doesn't quite know how to answer the question either, so he settles on indifference.

"We were finalising some arrangements." It's non-committal, and allows her room to manoeuvre.

She takes a sip of her coffee. "You two sleep together?"

He can't help the way his jaw drops at her question. "How is that any of your business?"

She sighs, looking down at the space between their seats. "I'm sorry...you're right." She picks at her coffee cup. "If you had said yes to me the other day...would things be different?"

"No." He's surprised at how little he hesitates at her question.

There is no doubt in his mind that if he had taken up Dani's offer, he would be in the same position he is at the moment. Perhaps it would've taken longer; but he and Olivia fit too well together for them to be kept apart forever.

Dani's mouth twists into a smirk. "I knew that...on some level anyway." She looks back out the windscreen, her eyes scanning the light traffic. "We both missed somebody. Meaningless sex wasn't going to bring them back."

He nods his head in agreement. "It would've made things harder though."

"Maybe..." She sits back in her chair. "But it would've been good." She doesn't look at him; she just sips at her coffee again, eyes never wavering from the front of the sedan.

He shakes his head, laughter bubbling in his chest. "I can't believe you just said that."

They sit in comfortable silence as a couple of teenagers sprint across the street to make the bus which has just rumbled passed them. He's glad he's had the opportunity to clear the air with Dani; to come to some consensus about their situation. He can tell from the tone of her voice that she's probably as glad as he is nothing eventuated.

"It was an experience working with you." Her tough accent has deepened slightly as the coffee takes effect.

He finds all he can do is nod because he's comparing the grating sound of Dani's voice to the soft caress of Olivia's; the way if he trailed his hand to just the right place while his tongue moved along the roof of her mouth, she'd purr so deeply, he'd feel it all the way to his toes.

Jesus Christ, Stabler, get a grip.

He was supposed to be on a stakeout, watching for a sign from a dangerous perp; but the only thing which was close to making an appearance was stirring in his pants.

He shifts in his seat, clearing his throat as he pretends to look closer at the windshield. "I can't see him."

Dani leans forward as well. "Maybe he isn't here."

Just as she finishes her sentence, Cragen's voice crackles over the radio. "We're calling it in."

Elliot raises an eyebrow, picking up the radio. "What changed?"

"Melinda just called and DNA clears Pauletto," Cragen's voice sounds agitated at the fact.

Elliot waits a beat for more from Cragen before pressing the button down again. "What's our next move then, Captain?"

He and Dani listen to static before Cragen's voice sounds again. "We don't have one at the moment. We have to wait for more detailed analysis by Warner. We'll keep you both on call until tomorrow, otherwise, you're done for the day."

Elliot leans back in his chair in relief and ignores the way Dani smirks next to him. "What?"

She shrugs, shaking her head. "Nothing." She starts the car without a word.

While Dani navigates the way back to the precinct, he pulls out his cell and composes a text for Olivia. He shakes his head slightly because he's acting like a teenager all over again.

_Liv, I'll be home in 10. Love, El._

He holds the phone firmly in his hand, his heart racing as he waits for the reply. The people on the sidewalk rush past them in a whirl as Dani makes a tight left. He smiles as he thinks about Olivia trying to navigate the keypad of her new cell; at how because she's so slow at sending texts she normally settles on making phone calls instead. And just as he thinks his hand is beginning to shake uncontrollably, Olivia's name flashes along the screen.

He flips it open, and smiles at how something so simple can make him feel lighter than air.

_I think I've remembered most of the places. Can't wait to show you. Love, Liv._

**000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**

**tbc? R&R and let me know! Thanks! Laura xoxo**


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